


Two Kinds of Snapping

by Closeted_Bookworm



Category: Minecraft (Video Game), Video Blogging RPF
Genre: Angst, Arguing, Canon Death, Hurt No Comfort, Prison, Serious Injuries, Violence, basically I write the prison death scene and cry about it a second time, well that's a depressing tag set
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-03-05
Updated: 2021-03-05
Packaged: 2021-03-18 10:41:49
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,501
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29856870
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Closeted_Bookworm/pseuds/Closeted_Bookworm
Summary: They’d been saying the same things to each other for a week, the argument running in maddening circles as Dream spouted his usual insane drivel and Tommy shouted abuse back. He kept going on and on about the revival book, and Tommy wished he would just shut up about the stupid thing. It probably wasn’t even real.Tommy is stuck. Losing it. Trapped with the person he hates the most on the entire server, and no one's getting him out. Conflict is the natural result.Or, I write the prison scene because I like angst like that. No I did not have him do it with a potato. Sadly. Thought about it though.
Relationships: Clay | Dream & TommyInnit (Video Blogging RPF), but in a very not happy way
Comments: 2
Kudos: 22





	Two Kinds of Snapping

**Author's Note:**

> Well I'm just full of all sorts of joyful fics, aren't I. More pain, coming right up. :]
> 
> (spoilers for Tommy's recent stream)

Tommy was done. He was so sick and tired and stuck and hurting and he wanted out so badly that he was ready to fly apart at the seams. The prison cell was infuriatingly small, and Dream’s presence in the corner was unignorably large. His fresh bruises were smarting from their short-lived scuffles and he had a long scratch on one arm sluggishly leaking blood from their most recent fight.

It hadn’t taken them long to switch from furious and resentful words to physical violence. Tommy had lashed out first, with a wild roundhouse punch thrown in desperation on his second day trapped, but Dream had shown no hesitation when he swept his feet out from under him in retaliation. Almost every argument they had ended with Tommy sprawled on the floor in an incandescent state of boiling rage, and he always came out worse in their exchanges. His body was littered with marks, but Dream was only sporting a swollen cheekbone from a lucky blow and a couple scrapes.

Tommy didn’t know why he kept trying. He’d never be able to beat Dream one on one, but there was so much seething anger bubbling up inside him that he felt like he couldn’t help it. They’d been saying the same things to each other for a week, the argument running in maddening circles as Dream spouted his usual insane drivel and Tommy shouted abuse back. He kept going on and on about the revival book, and Tommy wished he would just shut up about the stupid thing. It probably wasn’t even real, just a bluff to make him let down his guard. 

He got up from his spot at the edge of the room and started pacing, tracing his now-habitual route back and forth along the netherite strip. His thoughts were running in loops again, repeatedly telling him that the only thing he wanted right now was to leave. He knew that already, he didn’t need his brain freaking out about it. He was pretty sure he’d had at least one panic attack. He didn’t want to spiral into another. 

He’d asked the question a thousand times before, but he couldn’t stop himself from asking again. “How long’s it been,” he snapped.

“Close to a week now,” Dream replied evenly. 

“What’d you mean _close_ to a week? Either it’s been one or it hasn’t! I want out of here _now!_ ” 

The other man shrugged. “Nothing I can do about it. Sam must still be dealing with the security issue.”

“That you’ve caused, stupid idiot. I’m done with you. When I get out of here, I’m never coming back.”

“Aw, wouldn’t you miss me?” he crooned.

“No. Hell no. I’d rather die.”

Dream’s eyes flashed. “Would you, now?”

He shuddered. “Not literally. You’re sick in the head.” 

A grin tugged at the corner of the prisoner’s mouth and he stood up, moving a step closer. “But think of all the fun times we had together. I want to be your _friend,_ Tommy. I’d certainly miss you.”

Tommy angrily rounded on him. “I want nothing to do with you,” he snarled, stabbing an accusatory finger towards his chest. “You can rot in here for the rest of your life for all I care. I’m getting _out_ , and I’m leaving you behind forever. I’m gonna forget I ever knew you. There are people out there who care about me more than you ever will.”

Dream took another step. “But I do care about you, Tommy. And here’s the thing,” he leaned in, “are you sure the others are your friends? After all, you’re still stuck in here, aren’t you?” He smiled, an expression too wide for his face. Tommy hated how it looked.

“Shut up,” he growled, turning back towards the lava. “Of course they are.”

A hand rested on his shoulder, and he batted it roughly away. 

“So irritable,” Dream mused. “You’ve got the shortest fuse of anyone I know.”

“Gee, do I?” he muttered sullenly. The hand returned, and he slapped it off. “I never want to see your idiotic face again for the rest of my life.”

“But if you stayed with me, think about how much longer that would be. I could give you another life. Heck, I could give you as many as you wanted. I want to _help_ you, Tommy.” He reached for the teen’s shoulder a third time.

Tommy ducked out of the way, pushing the larger man back. “Not back to this thing again. I don’t believe it. That stupid book isn’t real. You’re just trying to get me to buy into your lies, but I won’t do it.” 

Dream’s eyes glittered darkly as he closed the distance between them. “Oh, it’s real alright. I don’t think even Schlatt knew the power this book gives. I don’t know what I can do to make you believe me.”

“Nothing,” he blustered, disliking the closeness. “I’ll never side with you.” He planted his palms in Dream’s chest and shoved him away, feeling the start of another fight brewing in the air. His enemy stepped neatly backwards and kept his balance, smiling his creepy leering grin. 

“Oh, come on. Do you really want to do this again? We both know how it ends.” He spread his stance into a more stable boxing pose.

“I hate you. You’ve made my life hell for months. I hate you!” 

He rushed at Dream and attempted to drive his shoulder into his stomach, but his opponent side-stepped and tried to shove him to the ground. He barely kept his footing, tripping forwards for a few steps before whirling around to face him again. He yelled in rage and charged a second time, aiming for his feet instead. Once again Dream dodged and grabbed Tommy’s elbow as he tried to run past, hauling him around and throwing him to the ground.

He scrambled back to his feet in time to avoid the kick heading for his gut and stumbled away from the swinging fist that swiftly followed. He tried to get in a counter punch but was blocked by Dream’s other arm. A sharp pain burst in his knee as Dream sent a sudden kick flying into it, and the hit distracted him enough for the other man to shoot a rapid jab straight into his nose.

His head snapped back and he cried out, automatically bringing his hands up to his face as his vision blurred with reflexive tears. That was all the opportunity Dream needed to kick him squarely in the stomach and send him crashing to the floor. His head cracked painfully against the obsidian, stunning him as more pain blossomed in his skull.

_This is where he’ll back off_ , something in his brain told him. Their fights always ended quickly.

But Dream drove his foot into Tommy’s gut a second time, putting his full weight into the crushing stomp. Tommy yelled in agony as he drew his foot back up for another blow, trying to roll to the side and get out of the way. Dream followed the movement easily and the second stomp landed on his ribs. He heard something crack and the pain multiplied, another scream tearing itself from his mouth.

He tried to get away, pulling himself towards the far end of the room, but he couldn’t drag himself more than a few inches before another devastating hit slammed into his sternum. He couldn’t stop screaming, he was in so much pain. It was the worst pain he’d ever felt, being shot by an arrow was paling in comparison to his organs being pulverized by a heavy boot. Dream wouldn’t stop, laughing maniacally as his foot pounded into his torso over and over again.

“How about this to convince you?” he screeched, unhinged. “You can go ask him yourself!”

Tommy tried to say something, but Dream kicked him in the jaw and the words were choked back in another cry of agony. His insides felt scrambled and wrong and _painful_ and he’d never felt anything so bad in his entire life. He tried to curl up around his ruptured and bleeding stomach, tears streaming down his face, but moving felt worse so he stopped. 

Dream was still hitting, crunching his fingers into the ground and grinding his arms against the obsidian floor. He knew things were breaking but he wasn’t thinking about what, brain consumed by the indescribable torture pulsing through him in time with his heartbeat.

He knew he was still screaming but it was past voluntary, a primal, animalistic noise that should never come from a person’s throat. 

He knew Dream was still laughing. The raucous noise was psychotic and terrifying and _how the hell did this happen he was supposed to get out._ But now Dream was drawing back his foot for another stomp, higher than the others, and Tommy’s last thought was _I’m not ready to die._

The boot came down on his neck with a sickening snap, and the pain stopped.

**Author's Note:**

> I'm in pain :')
> 
> Might write an afterlife chapter to tack on after this, we'll see.
> 
> Commints much appreciated, please and thank you!


End file.
